


Tell Me More

by pitypartyof1



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Dick Pics, Drinking, Feelings, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pining, Praise Kink, Stupid Boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-11 16:56:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10469787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pitypartyof1/pseuds/pitypartyof1
Summary: Calum makes a discovery and a deal.In short, he's sososo fucked right now.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short little teasing start for something I've been wanting to write on the off chance that anyones interested in reading more.

Calum blinks stupidly at the screen for another moment, waiting for the image to dissolve into _anything_ else. He recognizes the small mole near the base, even the dusting of dark hair trailing down to the pretty cock on his screen. What he doesn’t recognize is the size (a grower, then) or the pink swell of the engorged tip, and _definitely_ not how the full balls are tucked up nicely against the base.

It’s no great secret among the boys that Calum fancies the occasional guy, but he never expected to stumble onto _this_. He wonders how the other lad could be so stupid.

_Your balls are on the internet_ , he texts carefully.

**_So’s the rest of it_** comes back a moment later.

_I can see that_

His cell vibrates in his hand seconds later.

“Looks good, doesn’t it?” Ashton asks cheekily.

Calum huffs down the line. “Don’t be an ass. I’m trying to rub one out here and now I’m stuck staring at your package.”

“No one’s told you you’ve got to keep looking at it. Close it off if it bothers you so much.”

Calum hangs up on him. The photo of Ashton’s cock is still pulled up on his screen and the longer Calum stares, the more strangely turned on he becomes. Resigning himself, he clicks on the poster’s account. Just as he was worried, there are more. A lot more. Calum chokes on a groan.

_Jesus Christ, Ash_

Followed quickly by _Why do you do it?_

**_The messages and comments mostly. I like being looked at._ **

Calum dials him back, cutting in before Ashton can even get out a ‘hello’.

“Are you insane? Do you know what would happen if someone found out?”

Ashton’s eye roll is borderline audible. “Well besides you and my mother, I don’t think anyone can recognize me just from my dick. Speaking of… How much time do you spend looking at my cock to be able to recognize it in a photo?”

The smirk in his voice is pronounced and Calum flushes even though Ashton can’t see him. “Don’t be ridiculous. Whether I wanted to or not, I’ve seen you naked more times than necessary to be able to do that since this band started.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Calum sighs. “That’s not even the point! The point is that I don’t want what happened to me to happen to you. Why the internet? Can’t you just keep them to yourself?”

Over the line, Ashton’s breath comes slow. “I told you. It’s about the reactions I get. I like knowing how much I turn people on. Guys or girls, doesn’t matter. The praise is amazing, Cal.”

“Well… Can’t you just find someone you trust?”

In his room, Ashton shifts, uncomfortable. “How _exactly_ am I supposed to do that, Cal? ‘Hey, I know we’re good mates and all, so would you mind if I sent you photos of my cock so you can tell me how pretty it is and how much you like it’? I don’t exactly see that going over well, do you?”

Biting his lip, Calum gazes into his own lap. Strangely, his boner hasn’t really gone down, and it’s confusing him a little. “You could send them to me,” he blurts, promptly wishing the universe would swallow him into the dark abyss. The silence from Ashton seems to stretch into an eternity.

“Um. You –” Ashton makes a small coughing noise. “You want me to send you my dick pics instead of putting them onli –”

“It’s really pretty! They’re _all_ pretty…” Calum rambles, cheeks heating. Through the static he hears a soft whimper.

“You… You really think so?”

“Yeah,” Cal whispers. “Yeah, I do. So, will you take them off the internet and send them to me instead?”

Ashton’s response is equally as quiet. “O-okay. Are you sure?”

Calum nods vigorously before remembering that Ashton can’t actually see him. “I want you to, Ash.”

Uncertainty laces Ashton’s tone. “You’re okay with, like, telling me how good they look and h-how much you like them? I mean… You realize that’s how I get off right? You get that? I read the messages and comments and they turn me on. I need that.”

Instead of answering Ashton’s questions, he decides to just dive in the deep end. Pulling up a photo on Ashton’s account from a month back, he really looks at it. “I like the little curve you have,” he breathes. “I’m looking at the one you posted the 23rd last month. Such a hot ass, too. Those workouts are paying off, Ash.” There’s a groan before Ashton’s voice comes back, strained.

“Okay, okay. I’ll- yeah. I’ll do it. But I gotta go.”

And just like that, the phone goes dead in Cal’s ear as Ashton cuts off the call. Cock twitching slightly as he gazes back at the screen of his laptop, Calum sighs.

He gets himself off like that, looking through Ash’s photos, hand tight around himself. He feels a little guilty afterwards, but then he remembers he’s about to start seeing a lot more of it. The rest of his night passes slowly, and it’s not until three am that Calum realizes how well and truly fucked he is as his phone buzzes on the night stand.

**_Gonna send one now. Ok?_ **

_Go for it_ , he responds. And did he mention the massive crush he’s had on Ashton since he _met_ him? Yeah, he’s trying not to think about it, but it’s kind of hard when a picture of Ashton’s fist curled around his cock in the harsh light of the bathroom comes through a minute later. Calum feels himself harden and he moans, zooming and examining every angle before typing out a response.

_Fuck. Your hands are so big. Fit around you so perfect though. Never seen you hard like this in person, but it looks fucking big, too._

Ashton doesn’t respond.

Calum saves the photo and comes for a second time that night.


	2. Chapter 2

When Calum wakes up, he has two more photos from Ashton. There’s a message accompanying the last one.

**_Went for a run this morning._ **

Ashton looks edible, and Calum’s mouth waters as he clicks on the images and scrolls back and forth between the two. The first is a photo of Ashton cupping his bulge over his shorts in a mirror, still fully dressed in workout gear with headphones in and all. The dark patch of sweat on the light colored shirt is enough to stir something in Calum’s own shorts.

Biting his lip, Calum swipes again to the second photo. In this one, Ashton is shirtless with the subtle sheen of sweat glowing on his chest. Gone are the headphones and trainers. He’s still wearing the shorts, though. Calum swallows harshly, eyes tracing the waistband down to the point where it’s tucked up under Ashton’s balls. His cock is hanging heavy, not quite fully hard and Calum wants to _taste_ it. An image of himself kneeling before Ashton as he begs to come floats behind his eyes. He has to squeeze himself to take some of the edge off as he opens up a reply to the drummer.

_Be right back. About to jerk it._

It’s honest, but it’s all too much. Calum deletes it almost immediately. Ashton said he wanted praise; he doesn’t want to know how far down his pants Calum’s hand is.

_No one should look that good sweaty. Never realized how fucking pretty your hips are._

He takes a deep breath, continuing.

_And your balls all pushed up like that? You’d be fucking amazing jerking off just like that._

Sending the message, he clambers out of bed and heads for the shower. He’d slept naked, and his own hard cock bobs in front of him as he makes his way. Sighing deeply, he turns the temperature as cold as he can take it and steps in, swearing softly. Self-control, he tells himself. He’s going to need to develop some ASAP. Ashton is the guy he’s been hung up on since the very first time he made a joke and Ashton laughed even though it was awkward and stuttered. He’s also sending him nudes now. On top of that, he’s Calum’s drummer and one of his best mates. He’s the one that cuddles Cal on his bad days and farts on him when he’s being particularly goofy. He’s been there for so much of Calum’s shit, and he’s trusted Calum with enough of his own…

And there’s absolutely no way Calum’s _not_ going to get off to him; has been for years now. He’s so weak when it comes to Ashton Irwin. If he’s honest with himself, he knows this is going to destroy him, but it’ll be the only chance he’s ever going to get to see Ashton naked so he’s going to take it. Until he can’t anymore, at least.

When he eventually stumbles numbly out of the shower wet, cold, and still slightly bleary-eyed, he finds a pleasant surprise – Ashton’s responded.

**_Fuck, I did. Came just like that._ **

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly Calum’s fingers scramble over the screen to reply. In the back of his mind, he knows the word he’d apply is ‘desperate’.

_Did you seriously? Shit that’s hot._

Ashton’s response is another image and Calum nearly swallows his own tongue. It’s a nice, crisp, clear close-up of Ashton’s spent cock resting against his muscular thigh, looking wet with _something_ – lube or come, Calum doesn’t know. There are small pools of his come drying on his stomach and, indeed, on the shorts still pushed down under the swell of him. Calum groans deep in his throat. He doesn’t have time for another shower and, thanks to the first one, doesn’t have time to get himself off either. He’s due to meet the boys at breakfast shortly. Still, he punches out a quick reply.

_Holy shit, Ashton._

Getting ready takes a little longer than usual after that. Normally, he’s decently fast. Cramming his boner into a pair of skinny jeans slows him down a little. “Fuck,” he hisses, frustrated. It _hurts_ is the thing. Trying to shove his dick down into a position where it’s not hugely tenting his jeans, but that also allows him to button them is _hard_. He sighs, tempted to call and say he’s not going, but they’ve got to hit the studio after so he kind of has to be there.

 

*

 

As is typical, Michael doesn’t let him get away with anything, the fucking dickhead. The moment he catches sight of Calum, he starts cat-calling and whistling.

“Please tell me you’re not _that_ happy to see me,” he stage-whispers as Calum sits. “Luke’ll get jealous.”

Calum huffs and takes a deep slurp of coffee, grumping at him over the rim of the mug. “Shut the fuck up.”

Michael’s grin expands, threatening to overtake his face. “Tsk, tsk. _Not_ very friendly today, then. What’s crawled up your ass and made a home?”

“Like you’d be pleased if your shit was all packed up in those pants like that,” Luke snipes back. “Of course he’s sour.”

Calum thinks he’s trying to defend him, but really it just reminds him of how uncomfortable he is.

“Who’s all packed up in pants?” Ashton queries, sliding up to the table.

Luke and Michael both point at Calum, grinning. He decides they’re fucking traitors and he hates them both. Ashton gives him a very pointed look and his face flushes bright red as Ashton wedges himself into the booth next to him. “Interesting,” he says.

Calum whines and thunks his head back onto the edge of the booth in humiliation. It only gets worse when he feels Ashton’s hand on his thigh a few minutes later and he splutters his burning coffee when the hand creeps up to cup his epic bulge. Calum’s memory helpfully supplies the image of Ashton’s hand doing the same thing to his own bulge in those shorts. Barely managing to choke back a moan, he turns confused, uncertain eyes on Ashton.

Ashton grins blandly back at him, shoveling a small mount of hashbrown into his mouth. “You okay?”

And Calum’s about to respond when Ashton suddenly swallows and leans close, checking to make sure Mikey and Luke aren’t listening in. His grin turns wicked as his grip over Calum tightens and he whispers so quietly Calum almost misses it. “This for me, Cal? Did my pictures make you hard? Huh? You gonna touch yourself later and look at them?” Then as quickly as he was there, he’s gone again, leaning back to sip his coffee and flick a piece of napkin at Michael.

Eyes burning into the side of Ashton’s face, Calum squirms. What the _fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So listen... Come wail at me about these boys. Or any boys. I'll scream back. I need friends.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A misunderstanding, an explanation, and a surprise.

Calum does get off to the photos. It’s not until much later, though, and it’s far less satisfying than he’d hoped it would be. The fire of arousal burned through him all day, and every time he’d felt Ashton’s eyes on him, it prickled his skin with something like anticipation.

*

In the studio, Ashton keeps brushing against him purposefully, even whispering to him like he had earlier that morning.

While Luke is showing off to Michael, playing something fast and complicated, Ashton leans low, fingers brushing the top knob of Calum’s spine. “How many times have you gotten off to my photos now, huh?” Calum freezes under his fingers. Embarrassingly, he feels himself going very, very red _again_. He knows exactly how guilty he must look. Fortunately, he gets a slight reprieve when Michael turns around to razz Ashton about something he’d said earlier.

It happens again when Luke’s in the booth recording, and Michael steps out to have a pee.

“Twice? More than that?” Ashton asks, sliding up next to him. “Come on, how many times, Calum?”

And then, when he goes to pick up coffee and Ashton volunteers to help him. “Hey Cal… How _did_ you recognize my dick, anyway? You never really did explain that. Not satisfactorily, anyway.”

Calum doesn’t respond, picking up his pace and practically sprinting away from the drummer. A feat not easily accomplished since he’s still a little chubbed up. His blood simmers the more he thinks about it, the voices in his head convincing him with ease as he walks back that it’s all a giant joke. Ashton’s probably having a good, long laugh. Maybe he even told the others, who knows? Calum’s _furious_.

Eventually, Calum snaps, yanking him out into the hall. “What the hell are you doing? Is this some big thing to you, you’re fucking with me now?”

Ashton’s eyes go big like saucers, but he doesn’t have anything to say for himself. So, instead, Calum steamrollers on, voice cracking. “You coulda just told me to fuck off, alright? I don’t like being laughed at, but you coulda done it without humiliating me, you know?” With that, he storms off, texting Mike and Luke that he isn’t feeling well and is leaving early.

*

It takes him a good while to calm down after he slams the door behind him, storming around and swearing under his breath. When he finally does look at the photos, it’s like a weird form of single-party hate sex. Staring at the photos Ashton had sent, panting as he fucks up into his fist, squeezing a little tighter than he might normally, he comes.

Allowing himself a few minutes to calm his breathing, he drags himself into the shower and tries to drown. Of course, he’s just not that lucky. The water is hot enough to turn him a little red, and it stings. He counts the slight pain as a small win.

Barely bothering to dry himself, he flops into bed and decides to let himself sleep as long as he can. ‘As long as he can’ turns out to be a good three hours. It’s early evening when he wakes up, and Calum’s surprised to find that he’s _starving_. The idea of venturing back outside is absolutely repulsive, so take-out is really his only option. He decides on his usual comfort food: Chinese, the whole nine yards.

Snatching his phone, he blindly enters his passcode. There are messages. _Multiple_ messages.

From Ashton.

*

**_It’s not a fucking joke_ **

**_I told you – I get off on knowing I turn people on_ **

**_I didn’t know the people who commented but I see you every day_ **

**_I couldn’t help it_ **

**_When I actually saw you hard cause of me I just couldn’t stop pushing it I wanted to know_ **

**_Fucking made me hard knowing you got off to me_ **

**_Thought you were just trying to like be a good friend or some shit so no one would find out it was me on the internet_ **

**_I didn’t think you actually liked it_ **

**_Thinking about you jerking it because of me had me so turned on_ **

**_Swear I wasn’t laughing at you I swear_ **

**_I don’t wanna stop Cal_ **

**_Please_ **

There’s a lump in Calum’s throat that wasn’t there before and he’s finding it hard to swallow. If his eyes get a little teary, there’s no one there to judge him. Trying not to think about it too much, he responds quickly and continues ordering his Chinese in a haze.

_Then don’t_

Apparently that’s good enough for Ashton, or he just doesn’t want to push his luck, because all Calum gets back is radio silence. It’s enough until it isn’t. Mid-way through his Kung Pao Chicken, he starts to bring himself down all over again. Ashton likes knowing he turns people on. _People_. It’s not specific to him, and Calum can’t let himself forget that.

As much as he wishes Ashton wanted him the same way Calum wants him, he knows it isn’t the reality. Ashton just wants to be _desired_. He doesn’t want Calum’s vomit of feelings and buckets of sentiments. He told himself at the beginning when he started this whole thing that it would be good enough knowing that it wouldn’t be. It isn’t, and he’s not surprised, but he knows he wouldn’t give it up.

*

At nearly ten that night, he gets the video. To say he’s reluctant to watch is an understatement. Ashton’s never sent a video, never posted one on the internet either, as far as Cal’s aware. The phone screen starts to blur, and Calum finally blinks. Taking a deep breath, he selects the video, enlarging it and clicking play.

It opens on a long, low moan, but it’s dark. Calum can’t make anything out but the sound of Ashton’s panting. A moment after the thought registers with Calum, a light comes on and Calum realizes it’s a bedside lamp. However, he can see now and his neck flushes hot immediately. Mouth watering, he jams the volume up to to full.

Ashton’s use of the selfie stick forces Cal to reevaluate his opinion of the things. He can see more than he ever expected. The hum of the large, cherry-red vibrator is clearly audible beneath Ashton’s moans. The pace at which Ashton is moving it makes Calum whine involuntarily, dick kicking in his shorts. It’s so slow he doesn’t know how Ashton can stand it. He knows it must be brushing Ashton’s prostate on every pass. The sounds are sinful enough to have him leaking.

_Ashton_.

“Cal,” Ashton breathes on the screen, as if he’s responding to the message Calum sent. Calum’s heart stops, but Ashton doesn’t. “Calum, fuck, please. C-can I? I w-won’t until you say so. _Please,_ Calum, tell me I can.”

Calum whimpers.

The video ends.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Actions have consequences.
> 
> Or, the result of Ashton's video.

The echo of the phone is loud to Calum’s ears reverberating through the room as it rings once, twice, and then clicks over. Ashton’s panting is faint on the other end, and he offers no greeting.

“Ash,” he croaks.

Silence is his only response before a long, low whine comes through the line. Calum swallows convulsively, throat clicking. It’s real. The thought slams into his mind, repeating itself into infinity. He feels like he’s going to choke on it, on the need coming through from Ashton’s end. _It’s real, it’s real, it’s real, it’s real…_

“Did you mean it?” he whispers instead, barely recognizing his own hoarse tones. “You want me to tell you you can- can come?”

Ashton’s voice is utterly wrecked as he groans a quiet “yes.”

The sound sends a shock through Calum’s spine, hairs on his nape standing straight. “My answer is no,” he breathes. “You can’t. Not yet. I want to tease you like you did to me – return the favor.”

Over the line, the drummer’s breath hitches noticeably and power floods Cal’s veins, white hot in the darkness of the room. “That’s what you get,” he hisses. “Your pretty little cock is gonna suffer. Was it worth it?” Deliberately, he drops his voice an octave lower, to something resembling a growl. “Your balls always look so soft in your pictures. Tease them for me. Bet they’re all nice and tight, aren’t they?”

The only response he gets is a whimper like smoldering velvet, soft, just waiting to be brought to full flame. Calum tuts. “Use your words, Ashton.”

There’s a small amount of shuffling before he hears Ashton’s breathing again, pleading. “Yes, Cal, _please_.”

“No, Ashton,” he huffs, settling back into his sofa and pushing his own shorts down to somewhere around mid-thigh. If he’s not mistaken, there was a small sob encased in Ashton’s words. “I want you to put me on speaker if I’m not already. Then, you’re gonna snap some pretty pictures and send ‘em to me. I wanna know exactly what you look like right now. Don’t keep me waiting.”

On Ashton’s end, something clatters to the floor and Ash swears softly, the muffled “motherfucker” floating over the line smoothly. Calum chuckles. A few moments later, his phone chimes and Cal doesn’t even try to choke back his moans at the photos his bandmate had sent. Their effect on his is near instantaneous. He’s never been so on edge in his life. All through his body, his nerves feel frayed, a second from snapping with the arousal zipping through him. If he allows himself to be honest, he knows he could come like this – sweaty mobile clutched in his palm, staring at some of the most intimate photos he’s ever seen of another person, his iron fist controlling Ashton’s pleasure. He wouldn’t need to touch himself at all.

He studies the screen closely, eyes greedy. It’s the same dimly lit room from the video, of course, Ashton’s thighs spread open before him, full between the legs, large hand curled around his balls.

“Fuck,” Calum whispers, “they look so full, Ash. So fucking pretty in those big hands. Bet you’re nice and gentle with them,” he accuses, finally wrapping a solid grip around his own dick, stroking slowly.

“I wouldn’t be,” he continues. “My hands might be smaller, but I know how to work them. I’d squeeze until you’re just about to tip over into too much pain. I’d keep you right there on the edge.”

The drummer mewls pathetically. “Cal, ‘m gonna, _fuck_ , I want that, ‘m gonna come!”

“No,” Calum cuts him off harshly. “I’m not done with you yet. You better find a way to hold off.” For a minute, he has to mute his phone as he groans into his own shoulder, hips jutting up into his fist. It’s all happening so quickly, but right now, he can’t bring himself to give a shit. It all feels so amazing, and Ashton _looks_ amazing, and he just _wants_. He wants _so badly_ to have his hands on Ash’s body, shoving his knees back, stroking him, teasing every bit of him.

Fingers shaking, he scrolls to the next photo. It’s slightly blurred, and Calum entertains thoughts of why for a moment. Was it due to the angle of the shot? Was Ashton so desperate that rushing got the better of him? Did his sweaty fingers slip on the screen on the phone? All he knows for certain is that he will _never_ lose this photo.

Ashton’s twisted the camera to take a photo from the back, arm curling up between his legs as a finger hooks inside his rim, tugging himself open slightly for Calum’s gaze. Suddenly, his orgasm is _right there_ , burning hot in the pit of his belly. Pulling his hand from his cock, he moans Ashton’s name.

“Jesus, oh _shit_. Ash, this fucking picture, you…” Swallowing harshly, he zooms in, focusing on the small, stretched bud of muscle. Dusty pink and shining with lube, it’s fucking mouth-watering wrapped around the digit. “How long did you spend with your fingers in you, huh? You- the vibrator, get it, turn it on. I wanna hear you tease yourself.”

“Can’t,” Ashton sobs wetly. “I can’t do that or I’m gonna come, Cal. I… The vibrations, fuck, I can’t.”

He sounds like someone’s forced him to swallow gravel and it goes straight to Calum’s dick, already so full and painful. “Your fingers then, can you take your fingers right now?” He palms himself thinking about it, sticky fingertip slipping down to rub over his own dry hole.

In the background, the snap of a bottle cap rings through. “Mmmm,” Ashton moans, “h-how many do you want me to u-use?”

“Two,” Calum directs. “Want you to find that spot and tease it until I tell you to stop.” Beginning to stroke himself more aggressively, he spreads his thighs. The backs of his knees are sweating, his hair’s matted as well, and Cal just can’t stop thinking about Ashton’s ass. “T-tell me how good it feels. _Fuck_ , one of these days I’m gonna watch. ‘M gonna get you spread out and watch you open yourself, watch you make your pretty little dick leak, watch you sit on your fingers until you _come_ , Ashton.”

Ashton positively wails. “D-daddy!”

The word slams into Calum and his orgasm takes him by surprise, white splattering over his hand and his favorite shirt, unable to move it in time. Ashton’s name is on the tip of his tongue, the drummer’s voice in the back of his mind: _“Daddy.”_ He whines high in the back of his throat, continuing to milk himself until the sensitivity overcomes him. Regaining his breath, he grabs for the phone, jabbing to bring it off speaker.

Raising the device to his ear, he growls in a low, menacing tone. “Did you just fucking come?”

Ashton’s broken sob almost dulls the anger.

“You did, didn’t you. Didn’t I tell you _not_ to come until I said? Didn’t daddy tell you?”

Hiccupping roughly, Ashton whimpers softly. “Y-yes. ‘M sorry! I-I couldn’t h-help it!”

“Stop,” Calum demands coldly. “You disobeyed me, and bad boys get punished, don’t they?”

He can almost feel the drummer’s shaking as he stutters out an affirmative.

“That’s right. Now, you _will not_ come again until I say so. No getting yourself off at all until I tell you you can. You can send me all the photos and videos you want, you can even touch and tease yourself, but you’re not allowed to come. Can I trust you to be good and abide by your punishment?”

“Yes.” Ashton’s voice is quite and subdued, melting a small amount of Calum’s frustration away.

“Hey,” he intones softly. “Clean up and come over for movie night and cuddles, okay? We… Should probably talk about this anyway, if you want to keep going. Just… Come over, yeah?”

A small amount of shuffling later, Ashton’s voice is a little stronger. “Okay.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confronting feelings.

It’s about an hour before Calum hears the timid knock on his front door. It’s almost like the person hopes the knock goes unheard.

The bassist heaves himself up, shuffling to the door and peering through the peephole. On the other side stands Ashton. He holds a six-pack and a 5th out toward Cal as he yanks the door open. The blush creeping over his collarbones and into his cheeks is a thing of beauty, something to be admired. Calum’s sporting a matching red tinge, but he’s certain it’s nowhere near as enticing as Ashton’s.

Taking the liquor and beer, he steps back and gestures further into the house. “C’mon. I still have some Chinese in the living room.”

He turns, wandering down the hall. Ashton follows him silently, socked feet padding softly on the hardwood in his wake, both of them headed toward the kitchen. Cal busies himself popping open two of the beers, perfectly aware of Ashton’s every move. The tension is stifling. If he concentrates hard enough, he can even smell the sharp spice of Ashton’s deodorant. Taking a deep breath, he wills himself to calm down and passes one of the bottles off to Ash.

“So…” He breathes, trailing off and eyeing the drummer warily.

The blonde’s throat works quickly as he chugs half the beer straight away. “Sorry,” he mumbles, swiping the back of his hand over his mouth, wiping away the excess. “I know you probably have a lot of questions, just need a bit of liquid courage to answer them, I guess.”

Nodding thoughtfully, Cal pushes off from the counter yanking the other boy behind him. He doesn’t miss Ash’s hand flying out to catch the whiskey on the way, supposes they’re probably going to need it. Ash isn’t the only one in need of a little courage. Besides, this isn’t the type of conversation Cal wants to enter into sober.

Settling into the sofa, the bassist sips at his own beer, considering, before meeting Ashton’s gaze square on. “Four,” he states bravely.

Confusion registers on the other’s face. “Four? Four what?” Ash questions. “What does that mean?”

“You asked how many times I’ve gotten off to your photos. Four times.”

Ashton’s rushed intake of breath conveys his shock. Calum just fucking _knows_ those Hazel eyes would be wide and sparkling if he dared to look.

“Really?” He leans closer, breathless. “Why me? Why my photos? I-I didn’t think you would ever consider me that way.”

Just like that, Calum’s gaze is back on his own bare feet, unsure of himself once again. “I- come on. You know you’re attractive. I’m not immune to that.”

“So it’s-” Ashton pauses, collecting himself. “It’s all just a, what, a-a physical attraction only?”

And _there_. That’s the sticky point Calum was really, really hoping he wouldn’t pursue. Gritting his teeth, he chugs the remainder of his beer, holding his hand out silently for the whiskey. The drummer passes it without complaint, waiting.

Slugging down a shot, he grimaces, following up with another swig before replacing the cap and blinking at his toes. “No.” It comes out a broken whisper and Calum cringes, forcing himself to continue. “’S not just physical for me. I can’t-” frustrated, he cuts himself off. “I can’t lie to you, you should know. Like with what you’ve been sending me… You should know before you decide if you wanna keep, uh, doing that.”

It’s dead silent in the wake of his words and Calum feels the bile rising up in the back of his throat, he begins shooting more whiskey to swallow it down. The quiet is ringing in his ears, ratcheting his anxiety into high gear the longer it continues. It goes on long enough that he does eventually look up, just to get it over with. He’s fully prepared to see an empty seat where his best friend used to be. In fact, he’s surprised Ashton hasn’t started shouting yet. Instead, he’s met with Ashton’s open hand, gesturing for the bottle Calum still cradles. He passes it instinctively.

Ashton swallows it down easily, blinking away the sting in the back of his mouth. “Fuck, that’s bad.”

Calum’s face crumples and he chokes softly, humiliated. Next to him, comprehension of the misunderstanding slams over Ashton’s features. “No! Oh, fuck, no, not you! The whiskey, I meant the whiskey! It’s – you – you’re not, that’s not bad. It’s not, it’s – me too.” Freezing, he watches Calum closely, waiting for his reaction.

The bassist stares back, utterly bewildered. Emotions are flying through him, none staying long enough to register aside from the shock. The shock is what persists. His eyes rake over the drummer’s face, searching for any sign of deception. Finding none, his throat works helplessly, knowing he needs to respond, but unable to find the words or make the sound come out. “Wha’?” He finally slurs.

Beside him, Ashton is turtling in on himself, unsure if he should be smiling or frightened. In the end, he seems to settle on an expression of hopeful anxiety. He’s watching the bassist as if he’s preparing to flee at the first sign of a negative reaction. “Cal? Are you okay?”

Nodding dumbly, he squares himself, turning to face the drummer. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to say that if you don’t mean it. Don’t think about me, I’ll get over myself, the band will live. I _won’t_ make it if you let me start this and then take it back. I can’t do that.”

Ashton’s shaking his head before Calum even finishes his rant. “I _mean_ it. Do you think I would have sent those photos to anyone else?” Turning bright red, his fingers tangling together nervously, still steamrollering on. “If Mikey or Lu had found those, I’d have laughed them off and turned them down. I said yes ‘cause it was you. I _wanted_ you to see them, to have you tell me how much you liked it. I wanted _you_ to like it, specifically _you_.”

“Well I liked it. I liked it _a lot_. I liked it so much I was _terrified_.” Scrubbing his face with a hand and reaching for the liquor again. “Gimme that shit, I need a shot if I’m gonna do this.”

The whiskey burns going down and he coughs, wondering for the millionth time how Ashton makes it look so easy. Perhaps it just comes with practice. Eyes watering, he hands it back over to the older boy. “Alright, fuck. Look, I don’t really wanna get into it, but this isn’t exactly new for me. I’ve wanted it a while. I was getting off to you before I ever had the fucking photos to help me out. That though, those photos. It was like being in the best kind of hell.”

Lips cradling the mouth of the bottle, Ashton swallows the brown liquid down, licking his lips as he finishes. “I’m not going to stop sending them. I- I want more, but I won’t stop sending them. I like the way it makes me feel, knowing you’re looking at them, admiring them. How long have you…?”

Calum shakes his head looking away. “I want more too, Ash, I really, _really_ want that but please, don’t make me humiliate myself. Maybe some other time, after a while if this works out, I’ll tell you. Please don’t make me do it now.”

Nodding, Ashton accepts the younger’s words and wishes. “Okay. I’ll hold you to it though, someday.” Sliding himself closer by increments, he licks his lips again, this time subconsciously as he watches Calum’s eyes. “You want more too?”

The bassist grins tentatively. “Yeah, I do, Ash. Is it okay if I…?” He reaches timidly toward the older boy, meaning to pull him closer.

Ashton’s face breaks into a happy grin, dimples breaking free and eyes shining. He worms and wiggles himself closer, underneath Calum’s arm and curled into his side. Sighing contentedly, he allows himself to melt against the younger boy.

Relaxing and pulling the drummer closer, Calum closes his eyes and feels at peace. Ashton has always felt safe, has always calmed him when he needed it most. He can’t help squeezing the boy gently, as if verifying that he’s real, not some nightmarish dream. “Ash… What do want out of this? Do you just want to fuck, or like-” he blushes furiously, feeling incredibly awkward and insecure, “-do you want to date?”

Ashton tenses minutely against him, sensing Calum’s anxiety. “I think I want to date, but I don’t want to tell everyone right away. Can it be just us first? Mikey and Luke… I’m kinda scared of what’ll happen when they know. I want us to be able to work out our relationship first before we tell them.”

Torn, Calum swallows, throat sticking. “I hate keeping things from them. If it’s important to you, we can wait, I just don’t want to feel like you’re ashamed of dating me.”

“I’m not ashamed, I’m really not. I just know that this is going to change a lot for us. We’re going to have to work out how to date and still be in a band together and how we’ll get through fights without putting Luke and Mikey in the middle. It’s going to be a lot. I want us to figure that stuff out and talk through how we’re going to make this work before we tell them. They’re going to be worried about these things.” Ashton pauses, cheeks red and curls in complete disarray. “’M gonna kiss you now,” he mumbles, leaning up as his eyes slip closed.

Calum smiles softly to himself, helplessly enamored with Ashton. He meets him half way, pressing their lips together. It feels better than any dream he’s ever had, and he vows to never let Ashton slip away.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashton-centric, the morning after.  
> A little fun and some photos in Calum's bed.

Ashton stays the night. He spends it curled into Calum’s chest after they’ve finished all the whiskey and both passed out, TV a quiet buzz in the background playing some show on the paranormal. The gentle rise and fall of Calum’s breathing and the beat of his heart lull Ashton’s into a matching rhythm through the night.

He’s also the first to wake the next morning. Yawning, he takes in the sleeping figure beneath him. Calum’s mouth is hanging open, a bit of drool creating a small stain on the sofa below. Ashton smiles gently, nuzzling closer. The smell of Calum surrounds him, is almost overwhelming. It’s sweat and smelly boy. It’s spice and smoke and everything that reminds Ashton of fall and home and comfort. A part of him wants to drown in it and never leave. Inside, a feeling of warmth and want spreads.

Trying his best not to wake the younger boy, he pulls himself away, backing up softly. An idea comes to him and he licks his lips. Making his way up the stairs, he stops at the bathroom, the original reason he’d gotten up. Continuing down the hall to Calum’s room, he shuts the door quietly behind him.

The space is entirely and undeniably _Calum_. All around him, the walls are a sea blue, a greenish hue floating along like a wave throughout its depths. It makes him feel like he’s sinking into a deep calm. He turns in a measured circle, revolving on the spot. Photos and artwork are staggered along the walls. It’s mostly photos of _them_ , he notes, _all_ of them, from all over the world. The furniture collected in the room is a grey-ish color. Almost reminds Ashton of the color of driftwood, whipped by the sea and wind. The bed is the most ornate piece, truly the center of the room. It’s king-sized, made of the same sort of wood and covered in a cozy looking comforter threaded with shades of silver and brown. He can’t help but picture Calum here, curled in the bed, surrounded by the calm of the water, the king of this space. Ashton’s fingers curl admiringly around the bed post and he takes a deep breath before heading for the closet.

Throwing the double doors open, he wanders leisurely into the smaller space. Calum’s clothes are arranged haphazardly, some even in piles on the floor. Ashton can’t help but chuckle, it’s so _Calum_ , just as much as the calm and serenity of the bedroom. He wanders through the mess, chewing his thumbnail, considering. The smell of the other boy is even stronger in here but it also smells clean, like Calum on the very first day of tour, bags packed, climbing on the bus.

Bending, he cautiously extracts a long sleeve shirt, holds it up, and discards it just as quickly. It’s not what he’s looking for right now, not what he needs. He wants to feel safe, enfolded by Calum. The back of the closet is where he finds what he wants. It’s a soft, well-worn sweater, obviously old, that Calum’s maybe grown out of and doesn’t wear very often anymore. Stripping down to his bare skin, he pulls it on, feeling the warmth like Calum just took it off a moment ago. Nosing at the collar, he can scent the faint whisper of the bassist’s cologne and he hums happily, content.

Pulling his phone from his jeans, he stumbles toward the bed. He pulls back the blankets, climbing into the warm bed, spreading himself out. He spends a few minutes letting himself melt into the sheets, letting the happy feeling overcome him. Deliberately, he reaches, fingers curling around his cock and stroking unhurriedly. Air hisses past his teeth as he sighs, feeling himself harden at the ministrations.  

He thinks of Calum, imagines his sure grip and callouses enveloping and pulling in all the right places. A whimper leaves him and he tries to rein himself in, not wanting to wake the sleeping boy downstairs. He’s nearly fully hard and reaches a free hand down to fondle his balls, shuddering at the feeling. It’s easy to slip into fantasy, picturing Calum above him, holding him down, strong fingers bruising his hips with their pressure.

Calum, sucking him deep, hollowing his cheeks and swallowing.

Calum, slicking his fingers, stretching him for something bigger.

Blindly, he reaches to the bedside table, pulling the drawer open and praying that Calum has lube there. The Universe must be smiling upon him because it’s there, a bottle just slightly more than half empty. Snatching it up, he dribbles a bit over his fingers and tosses it aside.

The first rub of the pad of his finger over his hole makes him twitch with need. He grabs for his phone taking a photo of his finger teasing at the muscle, pausing to send it off.

 ** _It’s gonna feel so good_** , he captions it.

Finger rubbing harder, he presses the digit in slickly, moaning low in his throat at the stretch. Of course he imagines Calum’s fingers in place of his own. Better, he imagines Calum’s face when he wakes up to see the photos Ashton’s going to take for him. He whines and snaps a photo of himself, red-faced, eyes blown wide and spread open on Calum’s bed and sends that too.

It’s only wanking, but it somehow feels more intense already than some of the sex he’s had. His dick throbs in his fist and he strokes a little faster, second finger prodding softly at his rim. Without meaning to, the fabric of the sweater drags over the tip of him and Ashton has to stop himself from yelling out. It’s so sensitive and his fingers squeeze tighter, forcing a glob of clear fluid to well up and dribble down.

He removes his hand to take a photo of that too, of the little pearl of liquid glistening on his shaft.

**_I’m leaking for you, Cally._ **

If he’s honest with himself, the little twitch of his cock as he types is enough to let him know that he’s getting off more on sending the photos to Calum than he is really on his own touch.

It’s the idea of how Calum will react… If he’ll groan and have to squeeze himself from the sudden rush of blood. He thinks of Calum’s deep brown eyes, blown wide with lust and want, just from looking at photos of him. Calum’s fingers ripping his shorts down his legs, anxious to get a hand on himself, staring at his phone screen. Calum moaning and spreading his knees, settling in to get himself off…

His strokes are picking up pace as he slides the second finger past his rim, scissoring them and searching for his prostate, needing to feel the jolt of fire down his spine. “Calum,” he whines quietly under his breath. “Oh god, Calum.”

When his fingers finally press into that magic spot, his knees shake, the breath shuddering out of him on a strangled groan as he increases the pace of his stroking. He’s so hard he can barely breathe, feels like he could pound _nails_ and he wants to badly for Calum to wake up and take him like this. Wants for Calum to throw the door open and find him making a mess of his sheets and his sweater. He rubs at a nipple through the fabric and whines.

The third finger enters him with minimal resistance and he knows he’s soso close, going to come any second and he’s so _desperate_ for it, but not willing to let go of the fantasy just yet.

Scrabbling for the mobile, he takes a fourth photo, the three fingers looking obscene on the screen.

**_Gettin ready for you. Gonna fill me?_ **

Tossing it aside, he redoubles his efforts, fingers assaulting his prostate ruthlessly as he writhes on the bed, free hand massaging and tugging lightly at his balls. The feeling is overwhelming and he makes a decision right then, removing his free hand, fisting the sheets instead.

He wants to come untouched for Calum.

As he climbs closer to the edge, he grasps the mobile in his sweaty palm, wanting to be ready. He’s grinding hopelessly on his own hand as he feels the heat in his belly begin to expand and spread down his limbs. Fumbling the app open, he begins a video recording, his own panting filling his ears as he yanks the sweater up out of the way and continues working his fingers inside.

It takes barely three thrusts before his cock is twitching, painting him white. Some lands on the sheets and as he comes down from his high, he feels marginally guilty. He’ll wash them later.

Boneless, he melts into the bed. Now that he’s no longer on edge, he can feel the cool air of the room pricking his skin and the come cooling and beginning to dry on his body. Grunting, he forces himself up and propels himself into the ensuite. He wipes himself down gingerly before beginning to fill Calum’s large Jacuzzi tub with hot water and a few bubbles.

As he waits for it to fill, he retrieves his phone and watches the video calmly before sending it to Calum with no message attached. Setting the phone aside, he watches the water ebb and swirl as it rises, bubbles forming and popping along the way. His muscles ache just thinking about how soothing the water will be and he’s grateful when he can finally close off the tap and climb in, setting the jets on a gentle roil.

Moaning softly as his body relaxes further, he settles, eyes slipping closed. Water laps at the nape of his neck, soaking the curls there as he slips lower, enjoying the heat. Eventually he doses off, but it’s not for long.

When he blinks himself awake, the water is slightly cooler, but not yet cold. He washes himself, soap gliding over his body. Calum’s shampoo smells like mint and it leaves little tingles along Ashton’s scalp. It feels _amazing_ , and he makes a mental note to find out where Calum got it.

Climbing out, he fishes one of Calum’s fluffy towels from the rack, patting himself dry. Slipping back to the closet, he selects another of Calum’s fluffiest sweaters and ensconces himself, sliding back into the blankets and cocooning himself until he falls into a deep sleep, waiting for Calum to come to find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think? I love hearing from you!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Calum's reaction to Ashton's teasing texts and how it snowballs from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was honestly starting to wonder if I was ever going to finish this. Thankfully, the answer is yes. This is the end, the finale. I hope it lives up to expectations. I'm proud of it after the amount of trouble I had getting it here. 
> 
> Please comment and let me know your thoughts!
> 
> Didn't do much of a proofread, so excuse any mistakes. My apologies.

“You disobeyed me.”

The cool breath of air flows over Ashton’s neck and he shivers, waking slowly. It only takes his brain a moment to register the words and he freezes, realizing exactly what he’s done.

Calum slides onto the bed behind him, fingers stroking softly through his curls as he plants a glancing kiss over Ashton’s shoulder. “I told you, pretty boy, you were _not_ _allowed to come_. Apparently, you thought I was joking, yes? Because I woke up to a very lovely video of you doing the one thing I told you not to.”

Ashton shrinks against the strong chest behind him. Calum’s right, he’d completely forgotten the punishment his daddy had given him. Anxiety takes over him and he shakes lightly, not knowing what Calum’s going to do to him.

“Ash?” Sure fingers brush his hair back, the bassist’s concerned face peeking into his line of vision. “You okay, pretty boy?”

“I-I’m sorry, daddy,” Ashton whispers.

“Hey, hey, you’re going to be okay, it’s okay.” Calum sits him up, pulling the shorter boy to his chest and rubbing his arms soothingly. “It’s alright, Ash. I’m not going to hurt you, we’ll discuss a punishment together, okay?”

Ashton feels a kiss against his head and takes a deep breath, relaxing slowly. “S-sorry. I just – This is new. I don’t know how this works. I’m… I mean I’ve always known I wanted a daddy, but I’ve never…” He shrugs shyly, not wanting to continue.

Nodding thoughtfully, Calum hooks his chin over the drummer’s shoulder. “I’ve never been a daddy before either, just a dominant, and that wasn’t too serious. Sounds like we’ve got a lot to talk about, you up for it?”

Nuzzling into him, Ashton ducks his head to hide his blush but murmurs quietly in agreement all the same.

Sensing that the other boy won’t be the one to open the conversation, Calum steels himself. “I’ll start, okay? I love you and I want to be your daddy. I want to give you whatever you need, but I’m not sure I want to get super strict and stuff about it. I want it to be something that we do for fun that makes us both happy.”

The smaller boy sniffles softly. “I don’t want it to be too intense either. I don’t really know what I want exactly. I’ve never done anything like this. I’ve just always thought about having a daddy to take care of me and love me and p-praise me.” He stumbles over the last word, blush darkening.

Calum hums, squeezing him reassuringly. “I would love to do all of those things for you, pretty boy. Is that what you want?”

Hazel eyes flick upwards to meet brown, sparkling as he leans slowly up to kiss the dark-haired boy. “Yeah,” he breaths softly over the plump lips, “I want that, Cally.”

Inhaling sharply, Calum is quick to initiate a kiss of his own. “Good. Then I want to ask you about some things, we need to set a few boundaries. Sit still for a sec, kay? I’m gonna get us more comfortable.”

Fluffing pillows, Calum neatly arranges them against the headboard, settling himself and gesturing Ashton to join him. “C’mere, babe, wanna hold you.”

Ashton presses back into the younger boy’s chest, allowing his arms to curl around him, taking comfort in the warmth. “What did you wanna ask?” he questions, drawing patterns in the skin of Calum’s hands resting on his chest.

“Well, like the kind of stuff you think you’d be okay with… Are you okay with me punishing you?”

Ashton shrugs, slightly embarrassed. “Yeah, just nothing that really hurts, I don’t like pain. I think spanking would be okay if you didn’t go too hard.”

“And what about the one I gave you last night, when I told you you couldn’t come?”

“That’s different… It’s hard and I know it won’t feel good not to be able to, but you’re not hurting me? I don’t know. I guess I’m more okay with punishments like that because you’re taking away something that feels good and that I like, but you’re not inflicting pain.”

Calum’s hands rub soothingly over his chest. “That makes a lot of sense, actually. We can work with that. Are you okay with being teased, like _really_ teased? When we’re home together, I want to edge you, get you so worked up you’re gagging for it. In public, I might want to touch you and tease you when we’re out to dinner with friends, things like that.”

“Um,” Ashton’s face is on fire thinking about it. “I’ve never done that kind of teasing with anyone, or on my own really. Too impatient. I think I’d be willing to try with you though. M-maybe not in public just yet.”

“Okay, we’ll try that out and come back to the public part later.”

“Okay…”

“How do you feel about toys?”

“What kind of toys?” Ashton fidgets, tapping out a rhythm on his thighs.

Calum grins, tickling his sides lightly to loosen the mood, fingers dancing over the sensitive skin. “The _sexy_ kind!”

Shrieking, the drummer squirms, attempting to get away from the source of the torture. “C-Cal! S-S-STOP!!”

Giggling madly, Calum flops back, allowing the other boy to catch his breath, cheeks red with excitement and happiness. “Like your dildo you obviously have. Do you like plugs and anal beads and cock rings and stuff? Or like the more intense ones, like cock cages?”

Ashton settles curled against Calum’s chest. “I guess I like all of the first ones you mentioned. I haven’t used anal beads before, but they don’t sound too bad.” His nose wrinkles slightly as he continues, “I don’t think I could do the cock cage though, that sounds kind of scary and just too uncomfortable.”

“Got it. Now, I want you to do something for me, okay?”

Ashton turns to him with a questioning gaze and Calum leans close, lips brushing the shell of his ear with every whispered word.

“I want you to take that lube you found in my drawer and go in the bathroom. Stretch yourself and take some more pictures for daddy, yeah? Wanna have some pretty photos of your greedy hole stretching around your fingers. I know it won’t take too long with how open you were earlier. Then, if you want to, you can have me.”

Cheeks florescent, Ashton shoots out of the bed like he’s on fire, fumbling for the lube and his phone as he races to the bathroom.

Mere moments later, the phone he left downstairs dings loudly and Calum smirks to himself. He was right, it didn’t take long at all. Hauling himself off the bed, he jumps nimbly down the stairs, snagging the phone and making his way back towards his room to wait. The mobile dings a second time in his hand and Calum’s smile widens. Ashton’s being such a good boy for him and he intends to tell him as much.

Flopping back onto the sheets, he settles himself comfortably before thumbing open the texts from Ashton. The pictures are downright _filthy_. He can see the lube dripping out of Ashton’s tiny puckered opening and that’s just the first photo.

The second image shows two long fingers half deep and spread wide, clearly showing off for Calum, and he moans. He’s half hard just looking as he types out a response.

_so good for me, pretty boy_

_look at you dripping so nice and wet_

_you want me in there?_

The moan emanating from the bathroom tells Calum that his messages were well received. “Come out here, love, if you think you’re ready. Daddy’s got a nice reward for you.”

The door squeaks open a few inches and Ashton’s frazzled curls peek through. “Um, I’m kinda messy, I used a lot of lube, and your sheets...”

Calum rolls his eyes, fondness tugging at the corner of his lips as he hops up, yanking the bathroom door open and chuckling at Ashton’s embarrassed squeak. “Hush, let’s go mess them up together, baby boy.” He sweeps Ashton into his arms, ignoring the undignified noises of surprise, and grabbing the lube before heading back.

Dropping the boy onto the bed with a soft thump, Calum slowly climbs over him, bracketing him in with knees and arms. Ashton’s cheeks are flushed, curls in complete disarray as his eyes shine, pretty cock bobbing against his tummy. He _looks_ like a mess and Calum can’t wait to destroy him.

Sinking low, he brushes their dicks together, thighs tensing at the immediate surge of pleasure. “Oh fuck, Ash. I haven’t even touched you properly and you’ve already got me so worked up. You turn me on like nothing else.”

Ashton’s face is pure pleasure, pupils blown wide, and Calum can’t help but kiss him deep and filthy. A moan slips from the drummer, humming against Calum’s lips and only serving to increase his fervor. “You’re so amazing,” he breathes, breaking away, “my beautiful boy.”

Moaning, Ashton grinds up, pressing himself firmly into Calum, desperate for friction. “Please, daddy, _please_!”

“So needy for me, aren’t you?” Calum’s fingers dip down, copying his voice, until they reach Ashton’s cock. He strokes firmly, slowly, thumb teasing the head and collecting the moisture there to spread over his length. “Love seeing you like this, baby. What do you want, love?”

Ashton’s chest heaves as his hips thrash in Calum’s grip. “Fuck me, please, I need it, daddy!” He grips the backs of his knees, pulling them up, toward his chest.

It’s so much, Calum has to stop and close his eyes, steady himself. “Holy fuck, Ash, look at you. Did such a good job stretching for me, didn’t you?” He trails fingers over the slick, slightly open hole, lip sucking between his teeth.

“Yeah, just like you asked. I-is it what you wanted?”

“It’s _perfect_ , baby boy. _You_ are perfect. I love you so much. Do you want me to use protection, love?”

Ashton bites his lip softly, hooded eyes gazing back at him. “No.”

It’s all the bassist needs to hear. He slicks himself and pauses one last time with his tip pressed to Ashton’s hole. “Alright, babe, tell me if you need me to slow down or stop at all, okay?”

Ashton nods absently and Calum begins to press in, eyes squeezing shut with the pleasure.

“P-pause!” Ashton gasps after a moment.

Calum pants. He’s about half way in and Ashton’s body is clutching him like a vice, so tight and hot he almost can’t stand it. It’s torture to wait so still, but he holds himself steady, watching Ashton’s face until he gets a slight nod. He pauses again when he’s fully seated. Eventually a long, unsteady breath escapes the drummer.

“Move,” he whispers, voice tight.

As he begins to rock, his body almost seizes up in pleasure. Calum takes it easy at first, keeping the thrusts slow and shallow. After a few minutes, Ashton grumbles softly beneath him and Calum’s brow furrows.

Ashton makes a face. “I’m not going to break,” he huffs. “I want you to _fuck me_ , daddy.”

Calum loses it, self-control shattering at the tone of the drummer’s voice, sultry, dripping like honey and so _needy_. He slams in, gripping Ashton’s hips with bruising force, pulling him back to meet every thrust until he’s starting to become erratic with the need to come.

Ashton seems to be on the same wavelength as it isn’t long before he’s gasping, clawing at Calum’s arms. “D-daddy, can I come? Am I allowed to come?”

Calum urges Ashton’s hand to his own length, eyes full of heat. “Yeah, Ashy, yeah. Come for daddy, wanna see you make a mess for me. Be a good boy.”

The older boy keens at the words, gripping himself tightly as he races to finish himself off, desperate to please Calum. It’s that obvious need to please that sends a scorching wave of heat through him. It’s feels like his spine is melting as he slumps forward, spurting into the clutching warmth of Ashton’s body.

Before he even catches his breath, he’s pulling out, quieting Ashton’s desperate whine with three fingers and leaning down to push his hand away. “Shush. Want you to come in my mouth, pretty boy.”

The whimper that falls from Ashton as Calum swallows him down is the most perfect thing he’s ever heard. Fisting what he can’t quite fit into his mouth, he works his tongue with all the magic he possesses and drives his fingers relentlessly into Ashton’s prostate.

The only warning he gets is a small, high noise in the back of Ashton’s throat before he tastes the bitterness of Ashton’s come. He swallows quickly, working to get every last drop out of his boy before pulling off and settling his head against Ashton’s hip and gently removing his fingers.

“Thank you, daddy,” Ashton whispers breathily.

“Of course, pretty boy. You were so amazing, Ash,” he praises. “You were so hot and tight. I’ve never felt more perfect than I did inside you.” When he glances up to take in Ashton’s face, the boy is glowing and Calum knows he could praise Ashton forever just to make him look like this.

“I’m glad I found your pictures,” he strokes the drummers hip gently. “I can’t imagine not having this with you.”

Ashton shifts minutely under him, settling into a more comfortable position. “I’m glad you found them, too. I love you, Cally.”

“I love you more, Ash.”

“Impossible.”

Calum smiles, eyes slipping closed as Ashton’s fingers tangle in his hair. Everything is perfect like this.

**Author's Note:**

> Much like Ash, I really love comments.  
> Let me know what you think!


End file.
